Reluctant Exploration
by scifiromance
Summary: Seven of Nine and Chakotay's first away mission together was something neither really wanted to experience, but when they were pushed into it they did learn a great deal about themselves, and each other... Extended and additional C/7 scenes for 'Demon' S04x24.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: I don't own Star Trek: Voyager, but this story is set during the episode 'Demon' S04xE24.  
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><p>Chakotay hated grey mode. They hadn't had to endure these dangerously low deuterium levels more than twice before over their four year journey, which he supposed could be considered miraculous, but right now, when they were deeper into the doldrums of power deprivation than they'd ever been before, being conscious of Voyager's relative good fortune up to this point didn't make him feel any better. It only took one sorry twist of fate to wipe them off this quadrant after all. Another factor adding to his bad mood, other than the general atmosphere of anxiety, was the thought that the replicators were off-line. Not because <em>he <em>had a particular craving for anything, though he did hope Neelix at least served a breakfast free of leola root the next morning, but because the Captain would. Oh, she was alright for now, driven on by the search and the caffeine still in her system, but within a couple of days withdrawal would set in, and he'd rather deal with a power starved Voyager than a cold turkey Kathryn Janeway any day. At least she was still clearly delegating tasks, and he had reasons to be grateful for that, this time it was Tuvok who'd been handed the job of dragging people out of their quarters to preserve power. Not that his job for the morning, prepping the shuttle crafts and emergency escape pods for an increasingly possible evacuation, and then drawing up the lists of who was to be assigned to each little lifeboat that would be cast into the dead calm of space, was much fun either.

And then there was the necessarily dim lighting. He'd just managed to avoid several near collisions with his haggard crewmates already today. He'd had his vision corrected as a child, but in this demi-darkness he had to squint hard just to read consoles or PADDs. The resulting migraine had intensified when he'd read, with difficulty, from his console on the Bridge that Astrometrics was still running. Sometimes he wondered if Seven of Nine had deliberately designed her lab to covertly block out the comm. line from the Bridge. It seemed that if an order was good enough for her to follow, then it deserved a personal visit from him to reiterate it. Kathryn didn't have this problem with her, but then again she was faced with others from her Borg protégé, even if that was by choice.

He entered Astrometrics and found it as jarring a space as ever. Undoubtedly impressive, spectacularly so, but impressive in the daunting way a Borg Cube was. Seven certainly hadn't softened her sense of limited sense of aesthetics in the place. In fact, her own persona reflected her domain. The perfectly moulded body in the strict suit, the hair that lay like a polished helmet, everything about her was stark and focused. She was also strikingly beautiful, stunning in both the best and worst meanings of the word. No, he couldn't consider her truly beautiful in the real sense until the woman stepped out of the drone's long shadow. That wasn't going to be today. The only concession she'd made to the deuterium shortage was turning off the overhead lights, the wall of stubbornly illuminated consoles cast an eerie on her intent face as she moved from one to the other.

"What's going on here?" he demanded as he marched across the room to her.

"I'm working." Seven replied without showing the courtesy of looking up from said work. She also gave no indication of whether she was deliberately back talking or if the rhetorical nature of his opening volley had just soared over her head.

"You were ordered to shut down Astrometrics an hour ago." Chakotay reminded her tersely, dogging her steps as she shifted to yet another console until his chest nearly brushed her shoulder as he frowned at her, "We can't afford the power." She ignored him, smoothly copying information from a console into a PADD rather than replying. "Seven, it's inefficient!" he pointed out impatiently, in a state of disbelief that he had to have _this _particular argument with her.

Seven's brow started to furrow tiredly, with equal impatience, but she caught herself and smoothed it out before the Commander would catch the expression. Did he really think she had so simplistic a grasp of efficiency? She was Borg! "Efficiency is relative Commander." She explained as she again moved down the wall of consoles away from him, "If I shut down Astrometrics, I won't be able to scan for new fuel sources."

Again he followed her, standing right over her shoulder until she could faintly feel his breath on the back of her neck. It seemed to be an engrained convention in humanoids, that physical proximity equalled power, in this case the proximity was a pressure tool to intimidate her into conceding. Commander Chakotay was not the first to be under the mistaken impression that this tactic was effective on her. In fact, she didn't think he'd used it before now. At least his breath was inoffensive. Lieutenant Johnson had had an extreme case of halitosis before she'd informed him of it as an affected third party. The Captain had been inexplicably upset by that action, going to great lengths to explain that speaking of such an issue violated societal norms of some sort. She vaguely remembered now that the Commander had been present during that explanation; that she'd been able to see that he was struggling not to laugh had dulled the importance of that particular correction by the Captain. That instance was far from the most scandalised she'd seen Captain Janeway, she'd repeated the vital nature of modesty, and the absolute rule that she had to lock Cargo Bay Two's door when changing biosuits, after Ensign Tabor had walked in on her one morning. The Borg had no concept of modesty of course, nor did they pay any heed to nudity for that matter, but she'd understood that rule better than the former. How was Lieutenant Johnson supposed to take corrective measures in his oral health regime if no one advised him it was essential?

"I appreciate your efforts…" It appeared the Commander was changing tact, "…but we'll have to use conventional scanners until…" He was interrupted by an insistent beeping Seven recognised as emanating from the lab's central console.

She obeyed the sound immediately and looked down at the readings with Chakotay still moving directly in her wake. "Conventional scanners would not have found this."

"What?" Chakotay asked shortly, irritated.

"Highly concentrated deuterium."

"Where?" Chakotay pressed, relief burying his irritation even as he had to prompt her for more information.

"Computer, display source." Seven instructed. At once Astrometrics' screen, a stretched hemisphere, zoomed in on a small, angrily red, planet. "A planetoid 0.4 lightyears from our present position. "There are dense pockets of deuterium just below the surface."

"Maybe so." Chakotay allowed himself a regretful sigh, "But that's a Demon-class planet."

Seven turned her gaze on him fully for the first time since he'd entered, "Demon-class?" she echoed. She doubted she'd ever understand the human habit of attaching metaphorical monikers to inanimate objects, but she was more disturbed by the fact that she had no idea what he was talking about.

Chakotay gave an affirmative nod, "That's what Starfleet calls it. Also known as Class-Y." He glanced up at the screen again, "It's got a toxic atmosphere, filled with thermionic radiation. Surface temperatures are in excess of 500 kelvins. Just _entering _a standard orbit would be suicide."

Seven turned her head again to lock his gaze with her frank, piercing eyes. "Our situation is desperate."

"True…" Chakotay admitted.

"When faced with desperate circumstances…" Seven set her mouth into a grim line as she too looked at the screen again, her nimble fingers already dialling in scenarios as part of her mind jumped ahead of this conversation, "…we must adapt."

Chakotay studied her for a moment, rather than the screen. "I guess you'd know all about that." He said quietly.

Seven's eyes widened for a split second before she gave him a long, speculative look that mirrored exactly what he'd given her. "Yes." She answered simply.

"I'll inform the Captain of what you've found." Chakotay told her, hotfooting to more comfortable ground. He hardly waited for her nod before leaving to do just that.

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><p><strong>An: Please review. :) At least one more chapter to come! **


	2. Chapter 2

**A/n: I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.**

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><p>"Chakotay!" Chakotay felt his shoulders bunch with tension as he heard B'Elanna's anxiously hopeful, expectant voice ringing out behind him. Unconsciously, he picked up his pace down the corridor. He already knew what she was going to ask him, and he wished he could've avoided giving the answer.<p>

B'Elanna ignored the slight. She was normally so perceptive where Chakotay was concerned, but she was too focused on her goal to think beyond following him. She launched into conversation as she trotted after him, almost breathless as she fought pent up emotion and Chakotay's deliberately long strides. "You're going out to look for them, aren't you?"

"That's right." Chakotay confirmed, keeping his eyes ahead, his manner cool and controlled, even as B'Elanna's gaze, in contrast, didn't waver from his face.

"Take me with you." Her voice was soft, convincing. That made it harder. He couldn't exactly claim she was hysterical. The confidence in her tone hurt, she trusted him not to refuse her, to take her feelings into account. He knew she wouldn't see that he was protecting her, that by denying her now he wasn't trying to diminish her relationship with Tom or her friendship with Harry, but saving her from the all too likely scenario that this away mission would only find their bodies, the demon planet already eating at their flesh.

"I can't do that B'Elanna, you're needed here to complete the repairs." That was true and he would stick to it, but guilt still stirred within him, he was palming her off. Who was he, really, to decide that she shouldn't see this through to the end? Because Tom wouldn't want her to see it, and neither did he.

B'Elanna, of course, had pre-empted that reply. "I've already handed out assignments, Vorik's on top of it." She assured him at once. Chakotay couldn't quite bite back a sigh, couldn't she realise it was more than the state of Engineering he was worried about? B'Elanna must've heard the sigh, because her tone became even more empathic, the expression of her intentions all the more straightforward. That part of her personality was something he liked about her, he always knew where he stood with B'Elanna, but the bluntness of her next statement was a real blow. "I want to help you find them."

Chakotay had to kill that false hope, stone dead if he could. "Look…" He finally stopped in his tracks and faced her full on, "I know you're concerned about Tom and Harry, we all are." His mouth twisted awkwardly around the next assurance, "I'll have them back safe and sound in no time."

B'Elanna grimaced, giving him a glimpse of teeth slightly sharpened by her Klingon genes, as she briefly glanced away, as if ashamed of him. "Don't patronise me." She advised him sharply, her expressive hands flying up between them, now putting up a barrier where a few seconds ago she'd been emphasising their closeness, their friendship, in every movement. "We both know how dangerous that environment is. They could be in serious trouble."

"You're right." Chakotay agreed, seeing that the softly-softly approach wasn't going to work with B'Elanna, not that it ever really had. "I don't know what I'm going to find." He admitted grimly as he turned away from her and started back down the corridor, "That's why I need cool heads."

B'Elanna stared at his retreating back for a moment, wide-eyed, before she hotly pursued him. "You think I can't control myself?" The lightly dozing creature that was her anger had been roused, but disbelief, and yes, hurt, dominated that strangled exclamation. She wasn't used to Chakotay throwing such aspersions at her, he was one of the very few people in her life who'd never judged her.

Chakotay skirted that accusation. "I think you're too close to this." He replied tightly.

"You're damn right I am!" B'Elanna spat out as she seized his elbow, forcing him to face her again, to stare into her dark, disillusioned, reproachful eyes. "If someone you loved was missing on this planet, you'd be the first one out that door and you know it!"

Chakotay saw something in that flash in her eyes, the memory of Seska. She'd defended him, had been his advocate, when he'd followed Seska, even if that had been the flipside of her love for Tom, dark, brooding, resentful… She'd taken his side then and that gaze, or maybe his own conscience, was demanding he acknowledge that. A twinge of horrified, jaded sadness struck him as he realised that, rightly as B'Elanna might've understood his character, he hadn't loved anyone like that in a long time, perhaps never. He swallowed as he pulled a response from somewhere, "B'Elanna, the clock is ticking." He took a step back from her as he slipped fully back into the First Officer detachment which he sometimes feared was becoming more natural to assume that his 'real' personality. "Do your job and let me do mine."

"Do me a favour." B'Elanna said sharply as she was met with his back again.

Chakotay's eyes were steady now, his guard slipping as he turned to her one final time. "What?"

"Take Seven of Nine with you."

Chakotay recoiled a little, unable to stop a flinch passing over his face as if she'd slapped him. He blinked disconcertedly as realisation slowly dawned that his old friend as coldly serious. "_You're _recommending _her_?"

B'Elanna tilted her head at him, the shadow of a grim smirk cast over her hardened face as she regarded him a little too knowingly. "You said you needed cool heads, didn't you? Nobody's head is cooler than hers."

Chakotay's first impulse was to yell at her to grow up. This was her way at getting back at him, throwing Seven of Nine in his face. He knew she realised how conflicted he felt about the 'ex' drone. Hadn't he let her blow off steam about Seven nearly every time they combated in Engineering? Of course, he kept his concessions as to understanding her frustrations and fears general, had never quite admitted he empathised, but B'Elanna could be very astute. She'd seen the aftermath of the link, knew almost every gory detail about Seska and Riley, it hadn't taken long to put two and two together, even if Chakotay had managed to keep his true feelings as well shielded as always. He might not be as open and obvious about his distrust of Seven as she was, but despite, or because of that, the feeling was much more deep-seated in him. However, as he was stumped into silence by the very idea, Chakotay had to admit that she was in essence right. Seven of Nine did possess the temperament he required for this mission, whether he liked that thought or not. He also disliked that intolerant, irrational part of himself enough to want to suppress it like he couldn't suppress the heart-breaking snatches of memory he'd stolen from the child Annika Hansen. "Alright." He agreed quietly.

B'Elanna's head dropped and she began blinking rapidly. That Chakotay would actually agree to that request cemented in her mind how serious all this was. "And bring them back safe." She added thickly.

Chakotay's face softened in understanding. "I will." He replied resolutely.

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><p>The Commander had an emotional response to her arrival, that much at least Seven could ascertain. A tightening of the jaw muscles, slight clenching of the fists, narrowing of the eyes. All signs, she knew, but not enough to read fluently what emotions he was experiencing. Frustration. Yes, well their situation was desperate, and beyond that it seemed a constant aspect of his character, with her, with the Captain, with himself. Wariness. He shared that with the rest of the crew, except the Captain and the Doctor, who with their curiosity, bravado and morality that went beyond good judgement. She theoretically understood why they'd saved her, and gratitude for that wore away at her resentment with each passing day, but she doubted she'd ever truly absorb the impact of it. Commander Chakotay's distrust was easier to relate to than stubborn, destructive compassion, but that didn't mean she knew how to defuse it any more than she knew how to restrain the Captain's expectations for her humanity that oppressed her as much as offering a goal. He was surprised too. That was the strongest emotion that had passed over his strong, well-structured face as she entered, and she couldn't grasp the reason for it. After all, he'd ordered her to report here. "I brought a test kit to retrieve a sample of the planet's deuterium." She announced, gripping the handle of the container tightly as she saw his dark eyes spark with another unpredictable flare of emotion before he snuffed it out.<p>

Couldn't she have asked about Tom and Harry first? She just wants to keep her lab running. The angry thoughts burned through Chakotay's mind but were rapidly smothered by rational answers as he saw that Seven's expression, though cool and stoic, didn't have a hint of provoking cruelty. He may have limited his contact with the woman, but he knew she wasn't capable of that. Probably less capable of it than he was. She wasn't ignoring the fact that their search for Tom and Harry on purpose, just being methodical, pragmatic. It was true that they needed a deuterium sample, and if they found Tom and Harry, he doubted anyone would risk going out there a third time. "Good." He said stiffly as he started to climb into one of the spacesuits that were prepared within this large airlock. He glanced up at her as she didn't move, just studying him, then stepped forward and gathered up a suit for her own use. "Aren't you going to ask why I requested you for this mission?" he asked uneasily, all the while knowing that he didn't want to give her the answer and cursing his mouth. Her apparent acceptance of his manner, of his distrust, actually saddened him. He would've preferred it if she just confronted him about it, either asked him to extend her some trust or just suck it up. It would've cleared the air at least, but she never had, had never even given the impression that the idea had occurred to her.

Seven arched a brow mildly, the expression magnified and distorted by the visor of the helmet she'd just donned. "I assumed you decided that I was the most qualified for this mission."

Chakotay almost managed to smile at her then, she was better at reading others than he gave her credit for. She was probably used to giving her crewmates an escape route when they felt awkward with her. "Yes, you are." He replied firmly as he gave the heavy suit one last tug and secured it to his body.

Seven flexed her hand inside the glove of her own suit, not relishing how clumsy the protective material made any movement feel. Beads of sweat were already forming on her skin. She hadn't tried to walk yet, and saw the wisdom in that when she saw Chakotay take a clunky step, then another, on his way to open the doors that would leave them exposed to the whims of this 'demonic' planet. She could only hope that they would have no cause to run, because it seemed like a near impossibility in these suits. Then there was their design. She'd already noted several places where it could be reconfigured for efficiency, to preserve oxygen and heat, but then those would make them even more uncomfortable, and right now she couldn't bring herself to call comfort irrelevant. Still, there were too many areas vulnerable to compromising under the bite of this atmosphere… Stopping that train of thought in its tracks, her mind instead latched onto the most irreverent thoughts about these suits, their appearance. Commander Chakotay looked like… What had been those sugary delicacies Lieutenant Paris had convinced her to try? Marshmallows. Yes, the Commander looked like a walking marshmallow, and no doubt she did too. The texture had been so strange, she'd lost some dignity not knowing how to eat them, but Tom and Harry had just laughed it off and taken a mouthful each themselves to demonstrate. Anxiety snaked around her heart and stomach and squeezed, _hard_. Those two men…her friends, were in life-threatening danger. She'd grown used to fighting fear, but not the fact that fear for others was more difficult to ignore.

She breathed a tight sigh and Chakotay glanced over at her, having noticed her intent, unreadable gaze focused on the spacesuits. "You've never worn anything like these…" He realised, "Would Borg drones be able to…adapt to this planet's environment?"

"To a limited degree, yes." Seven answered carefully, glad to redirect her thoughts from Tom and Harry's probable fate. "A drone's inbuilt shielding capacity would protect both organic and cybernetic components for some time, then implants would keep the drone minimally functional beyond that, but eventually this atmosphere would corrode anything. If the Borg had any reason to visit this planet, which in all likelihood they would not, then drones could survive on the surface for several hours unprotected."

"Well, we're going to be out there for less than one hour, we'll be fine." Chakotay reassured her with a weary but real smile, "They dedicated more time at the Academy to explaining to everyone why these suits were perfectly safe."

"Yes." Seven replied smoothly, somewhat managing her trademark tilt of the head inside the suit as she watched the mist of Chakotay's heavy breathing could his visor. "And yet you are still apprehensive."

Chakotay stiffened momentarily, then grimly met her gaze. "You should know the odds better than anyone." He told her bluntly, finding a bleak sense of relief in the capacity to be wholly honest with her, knowing she wouldn't flinch.

Seven didn't disappoint, she hardly even blinked, though her voice was quiet, even morose, as she agreed. "Indeed." Bending to pick up her test kit and tricorder, she marched to his side so that they were standing shoulder to shoulder, ready to step out onto the dreaded planet's surface. "But I have also calculated the search perimeter to the maximum possible, we will find them Commander."

Chakotay briefly locked eyes with her as he dialled in the commands to open the airlock, and nodded with equal determination. "Then let's get going."

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><p><strong>An: Please review. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/n: Thanks to my beta NikkiB1973 and to two lovely readers, Sweetdeath04 and The Cheshire Cheese, whose reviews encouraged me to finally finish this story. I do not own Star Trek: Voyager.**

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><p>The aesthetics of this planet did not diminish its inherent deadly nature, Seven decided. Only dust, tinged the red-brown of dried blood by the cocktail of toxic compounds in the atmosphere, stirred around them, roused by the impact of their feet. There were pockets of wind, apparently unpredictable, that had corroded the rock enough to create a bevelled, cratered surface, but its few spiteful blasts were not enough to clear the burn orange overlay that smothered the ground under the clouds. Of course, 'clouds' was a descriptive, rather than an accurate, term. There were no water molecules clinging to this planetoid in any capacity. It was entirely hostile to human life, and yet, rich in deuterium, the element that maintained life on Voyager. Would that fit the Doctor's definition of irony that he'd explained to her recently?<p>

These were irrelevant thoughts, the product of her brain giving more weight to what her senses were perceiving than to what her tricorder was scientifically recording. Of course her senses were…on edge, humans were never designed to cope with this environment. Commander Chakotay seemed to have adapted admirably, something she couldn't always attribute to him, but then he was single-minded in his mission to locate Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim. She watched him take a confident step, then another ahead of her. As she followed, her visor steamed up, she was breathing too heavily. She could recognise fear in herself, had been experiencing it at various levels since she'd been severed from the Collective, but the feeling she was confronted with now was at the edge of her known spectrum. It was almost akin of what the Captain had called her 'paranoia' about Species 8472. If anything, the term was more appropriate now, since her fear of Species 8472 was well-founded, her unease on this planetoid however had no such basis. Her environmental suit was sealed against the ravages of this environment, Paris and Kim were either dead or still alive and her emotional involvement had no bearing on that outcome… An odd sensation, an instinctive jump, rippled uncontrollably over her muscles and she spun, her eyes widening as a rock formation behind her suddenly blasted out a plume of gas.

"A little jumpy, aren't you?" The Commander commented, having had no such reaction to the volcanic geyser, eyes assessing her coolly for a moment before his attention returned to his tricorder.

Seven swallowed to wet her dry throat, one eye on him and one still warily glancing behind her. "I thought I heard something." She explained uncertainly, realising as she said it how inane it sounded. They'd both _heard _the expulsion of gases, and yet she'd 'jumped', reacted, before she could've possibly known it was coming.

"Now you know why they call it Demon class." Chakotay told her, regretting the reproving, 'told you so' note in his voice as he saw real apprehension in her blue eyes. They were vivid enough, he noticed, to be distinct and striking despite the distortion of the visor and the haze around them. He should try to be a little more than civil to her right now, this was a hell of an away mission for a first timer, former Borg drone or not.

Seven's terse and disapproving reply shot that idea out of the water almost as soon as it crossed his mind. "'Demon' implies a presence. This planet is unoccupied."

She said that as if he was the one who'd been jumping out of their skin at every insignificant sound. Chakotay thought wryly, turning away from her. She didn't exactly make it easy for anyone to cut her any slack, her Borg defensiveness removing any space for empathy. "I'm picking up the shuttlecraft." He reported a second later in relief as he studied his tricorder and let it lead him forward. Seven followed him without question, though her gaze still scanned their surroundings warily with every step.

When they reached the shuttle, it was empty, utterly undisturbed. Seven had run a scan of its environs before they'd stepped inside with no luck, and evidently there was none here either. Tom and Harry were gone. "Nobody home." Chakotay concluded thickly after Seven had run a final scan.

Seven recognised the disappointment in his tone, but felt it would be remiss of her not to state the facts. "It is unlikely their environmental suits were able to survive the elements for this long." She advised him.

Chakotay inhaled sharply. She was right of course, but… He eventually settled on an ambivalent reply, one he hoped she wouldn't dispute. They owed it to Tom and Harry to search beyond the haven of the shuttle at least. "I hope you're wrong." He'd turned to march hastily out of the useless shuttlecraft before catching Seven's tiny nod in acknowledgement of that hope. She allowed herself one last glance around the shuttle, rueful and sad, before moving swiftly to keep up with his frantic, determined stride.

The cave they entered next, chosen because it charted the highest deuterium readings and thus was the most logical place for Tom and Harry to have ventured, was if it were possible even more unnerving than the barren topography outside. The light from the wrist torches on their suits seemed to be half swallowed up by the smoke that billowed around them, the rest of it being refracted off the twisted, spiky walls. Seven mentally hypothesised that this cave must be a geothermic fissure of sorts, only that would explain the smoke. Seven choked back a gasp as Chakotay suddenly crouched, the smoke surrounding him like a shroud. He'd pointed his torch down to the cave floor, leaving them with even less light to see by. "Looks like they when this way." He said with confidence, more confidence than she feel in that moment.

"My tricorder isn't picking up any lifesigns." She refuted him harshly, relieved that her voice revealed none of her unease, only an irritated bemusement. "How did you reach that conclusion?"

"Footprints." Chakotay answered, straightening up so that she got a clear view of the definitely print pressed into the dust just beyond his own boot. Seven felt her eyebrow rise in surprise, how had his unenhanced eyes spotted that? Some of their crewmates would've put it down to the Commander's 'Indian tricks', but she'd always dismissed those as part of the nonsensical mythical lore some of the lower decks crew maintained about their senior officers. She doubted Chakotay's genetic heritage gave him such clearly defined tactical advantages, and even if such skills had been culturally imbued to him on his colony, her brief insight into his conflicted personal history told her he would've shirked any such education on principle as a 'modern man'. "I guess you never assimilated any Indian scouts." Chakotay continued, making Seven pause. Maybe he perpetuated these myths himself? How…inexplicable. If that was so, or even if he were just making the comment to remark on _her _upbringing, it reflected more on him than on her.

They continued on in dignified, focused silence until Seven found a reason to speak. "High concentrations of deuterium…" She began, "…coming from this fluid." She reached the source of said fluid, a rock pool, and smoothly slipped her case off of her shoulder before kneeling at its edge. "I'll collect a sample." Her hands were slightly clumsy in the bulky gloves, but it didn't take her long to snap open the case and draw out a small sample container. Container number 758 to be precise.

She didn't recognise the fluid, it was silver, highly viscous. Perhaps a deuterium based compound unique to the planet, but then how had it ended up here? There were no more recognisable mineral deposits of deuterium in this particular sections of the caverns. Just as she lowered Container 758 towards the fluid, Chakotay touched her shoulder with one gloved hand, waiting until she'd stopped and was focused on her face before breaking the brief contact and speaking. Again he was revealing his tendency towards relying on physical signals as much as verbal communication. "Let's find Tom and Harry first. We'll collect the deuterium later."

"As you wish." Seven agreed, neatly packing away the container and rising to her feet once more with what Chakotay conceded to be impressive grace, considering the burden of the environmental suit.

He led her even deeper into the caves, though there were no further footprints as the walls narrowed to create an increasingly confined tunnel. "Maybe they found some shelter inside." Chakotay speculated hopefully as they edged forward.

It is doubtful that this cave network contains a hidden pocket of M class atmosphere, Seven's Borg logic silently replied, though Seven tried to muffle the thought. If she truly wanted to accept the likeliest outcome, she would have told Chakotay there was no point in looking for the two lost men and would be back at that pool collecting samples rather than trailing him through this cramped tunnel. A breathless cry derailed her train of thought and when her eyes found the source of the sound the Commander's white clad arms were already flailing, his body falling out of sight. "Commander!" she shouted in panic, the thought of more of the floor giving way not even crossing her mind as she sank to her knees, grasping the one hand that still gripped the crumbling rock. She leaned right over, their helmets almost touching as she reached down his arm, seeking the best possible grip. The glare of her wrist torch should've blinded him, but as she looked into his face his eyes were too consumed with terror to react properly to the light. Seeing that, Seven pulled, _hard_. It was enough to stabilise him, his legs swung closer to the rock and his other hand finally found purchase. His breathing was rapid between the grunts of effort. Just keeping himself hanging there, on the verge of a long drop to meet death, was draining him of energy; there was no way he could scramble back up. The responsibility for his life lay in her ability to drag him up. She shuffled back a little on her knees, searching for leverage, or at least support, but there was none. Her own body's noisy responses to the strain of the effort began to drown out even Chakotay's frantic, rasping breaths, but she tuned them out, calling on everything her Borg enhancements and pure adrenaline could give her. She yanked again. It wasn't enough. Even with her abilities, taking on a full grown man who had a good percentage over her own body weight, a man wearing several additional kilos worth of environmental suit, was a daunting task. Well, if she couldn't pull him up unaided, she'd hold him where he was until help from Voyager came…or their suits ran out of oxygen. Either way, she wasn't letting go of her own volition.

Suddenly, she was very aware of something else taking on the bulk of Chakotay's weight. She didn't look away from Chakotay's face, couldn't when he was in such a situation, so it was reflected in his visor that she saw the other presence looming over her, grasping his other arm. A hand, another _human _hand, gripped his suit. She didn't take the time to fully absorb this, when the being pulled, with remarkable ease. She automatically pulled the other arm and somehow Chakotay was back on solid ground beside her.

The two of them sat together, silent, stunned and shaking. It was only when Chakotay looked into Seven's face, ashen sweat drenched, slack with the same relief that left him dizzy, that he saw Tom Paris standing above them. No suit. As clean and poised as if they were on the holodeck. His familiar jovial smile played across his lips. The easy-going expression on his face, even faintly amused, gave the impression that he'd just helped Chakotay stand after a fall in a centimetre deep puddle instead of saving him from a 1000 metre plunge off a cliff. "Good to see you guys." Tom greeted them gaily, "Welcome to the Demon Planet."

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><p>"...our suits were corroding, our lungs were burning, we were suffocating." Tom explained emphatically, pacing around the cave so much that alone gave Seven another reason to tense up. Though they'd hurriedly moved to a move stable section of the cave, she'd never quite trust this ground beneath her feet again. "You know what you say about your life passing before your eyes? Well, it's true." Tom finally paused for breath and turned back to look at his two crewmates in those laughable, pointless suits, practically playing possum against the cave wall as they watched him with an identical sceptical expression on their two vastly different faces. "I was finally getting past puberty, when suddenly I lost consciousness." He shook his head in wonder, "I don't know how long I was out, but the next thing I knew, I was awake and I was breathing normally." An almost religious awe entered his voice in those last two words. "Then I looked over at Harry, he was breathing normally too, with his helmet off." He gave a joyous chuckle at the memory, "And we just looked at each other, and we just started <em>laughing<em>." He walked right into the two pseudo-astronauts faces. "I know it sounds crazy, but it was an exhilarating experience.

He certainly seemed…exhilarated. Or high on something. Chakotay could hardly believe what he was hearing. Not only were all of Tom's behavioural tics exaggerated, but he was treating a near death experience like a Captain Proton adventure. Having just narrowly avoided death himself, Chakotay knew that was unnatural, even for the wryly flippant pilot. Seven had just finished her scans of Tom. "His vital signs are normal." She reported, "Apparently he has adapted."

Chakotay caught Seven's eye briefly and was glad to pick up the doubt and suspicion in her voice. It reassured him that he hadn't hit his head on the cliff as he'd been pulled up, leading him to imagine Tom exuberant and alive. "Just the same we'd better let the Doctor take a look at you." He told Tom carefully before activating the comm. in his suit, "Chakotay to Voyager…"

Tom rolled his eyes impatiently. "I've already tried that. The comm. signal can't get out of the caves."

Chakotay tried not to react to his irreverent tone. "Then we'll call again when he get back outside." He replied patiently.

Tom made an exasperated sound in the back of his throat. "I'm telling you Chakotay, it was an amazing experience!" There was a fanatical gleam in his eyes. "It's like when you're a kid who's afraid of the water, and you suddenly realise that you can swim." He regarded them eagerly, challengingly, "Go ahead, take your helmets off. Try it."

Chakotay saw that even the cool headed Seven was staring at Tom as if he'd gone insane, and struggled not to follow suit himself. It was never a good idea to provoke those suffering a mental imbalance. "I'm glad you're feeling alright…" He started cautiously, "…but none of us should be taking any risks until we know exactly what's going on."

Tom's face hardened in frustration and condescension. "Don't tell me that a big, tough guy like you is afraid of a little poisoned atmosphere."

Chakotay refused to rise to the bait. "Where's Harry?"

"He's further inside the cave." Tom answered, "We found a huge cache of deuterium."

"Let's find him and get you two back to the ship."

"Whatever you say, boss." Tom acquiesced lightly, "But I'm telling you, we could breathe this air forever."

Chakotay glanced at Seven and saw the same unspoken reply in her face that was hovering on his lips. 'We don't want to breathe this air if it makes us act like you.'

* * *

><p>"Each square kilometre of this planetoid is less appealing than the last." Seven remarked tightly as she kept her tricorder trained not on the environment, but on Ensign Kim as he contentedly led her and the Commander around the surface. At least they were not back in those caves.<p>

"I think it's breath-taking." Harry countered earnestly.

"Breath-taking?" Seven echoed. Literally, she supposed it was. Whatever Tom and Harry's experience, she knew that if she or Chakotay removed their helmets they would have no air to breathe, and this planet had robbed the two adapted humans of the ability of breathe oxygen, but she suspected Harry meant it in the figurative sense, though she couldn't see why. "Perhaps your recent experience has impaired your perceptions."

"No, I don't think so." Harry responded, "I wasn't really seeing it before."

"Seeing what?" Chakotay asked, drawing as big a blank as Seven on what he meant.

"The beauty." Harry murmured reverently as he looked around them.

Ever practical, Seven responded to that with, "Would you care to point out an example?"

Harry hesitated a moment, as if picking the most beautiful spot, before pointing directly ahead of them. "Look over there. What do you see?"

"I see monochromatic geological formations, dust, haze." Seven catalogued, distinctly unimpressed.

Despite his suspicion that Seven would detail anything so detachedly, even any of Earth's beautiful vistas, Chakotay wholeheartedly agreed with this assessment. He clung onto her reassuring injection of Borg realism before plunging into the murky state of Harry's perceptions. "What do you see Harry?"

"To me, those geological formations are a dozen shades of red and gold. That dust, its glowing. And the haze seems to intensify the colours." Unlike Tom, he picked up on Chakotay and Seven's shared glance of incredulous apprehension and added apologetically, "I'm sorry, I know it's weird, but I feel connected to this place."

"Connected how?" Chakotay questioned sharply.

Seven interrupted Harry before the deluded Ensign could even start to formulate an answer. "I'm picking up humanoid lifesigns."

"Location?" Chakotay demanded.

"100 metres this way." Seven replied, heading off to the right.

Her heart dropped a little when she saw they were heading back towards the caves, though it was another entrance. This one was surrounded by several pools of the mysterious silver fluid. Harry, perhaps because his eyes were adapted to this environment, saw the sources of the lifesigns before either herself or Chakotay. "Commander!" he cried out in anguish. Two figures, in environmental suits, were lying face down, just inside the cave. Chakotay and Seven had just caught up with the running Harry when he turned one of the figures over and was confronted with his own face.

Chakotay gently pushed 'Harry' aside to scan both the other Harry and the other Tom. Comatose and slowly suffocating, but undeniably alive and _not _adapted to the planet. "I'm not sure how, but they're still alive."

"Just barely." Seven warned as a caveat.

The comm. line their suits crackled to life. "Tuvok to Chakotay. The Captain has ordered an emergency ascent. We must bring you back to the ship."

"Understood. I've got five to beam back."

"Five?"

"We've found another Paris and Kim." Chakotay told him, "I can't explain it."

The Captain's voice now came over the comm. "I think I can. Prepare for transport."

"Beam us directly to Sickbay." Chakotay requested.

"No, I don't want to go back…" The conscious Harry moaned, stricken.

"The transporters are still acting up, we can't get individual locks." Janeway advised them, "We're going to have grab you in a wide beam and bring you in as a group."

"Acknowledged." Chakotay assured her.

The planet's Harry was hyperventilating with anxiety now. "I belong here!"

"Maybe so." Chakotay agreed, "But until we know what's going on, you've got to come back with us to the ship." Harry stared at him skittishly for a moment and then ran, bolting into, what was for him, the safety of the caves. "Harry, no!" Chakotay shouted, but it was too late, the transporter beamed them away.

* * *

><p>As Chakotay walked into Astrometrics, at the back of his mind he decided that it certainly looked better under the benefit of full, deuterium fuelled, lighting, or at least less intimidating. Or maybe he was just growing accustomed to the place. Much like he was getting used to Seven of Nine, who both ruled and belonged to this hybrid experiment of a lab, ignoring him when he entered. "Good afternoon Seven." He greeted her, a little surprised by the pleasant tone he managed to maintain in his voice, considering he was speaking to her back.<p>

Seven turned her head slightly over her shoulder, a single eye fixing on him inscrutably for a second before she responded with a tiny nod. Abruptly, she spun to face him directly, the PADD in her hand held out expectantly towards him. "The daily Astrometrics report Commander. Today I have focused efforts on locating deuterium deposits along our projected flight path for the next month."

Even as he obliged her by taking the PADD, Chakotay felt his eyebrows lift. "Deuterium? Seven, the fuel crisis is over. Those twenty kilos we got down on the Demon planet will fulfil our needs for another two months at least…"

"I realise that Commander." Seven assured him coolly, "I intend for these scans, which I will run continuously from now on, to be used to prevent another such crisis in the future."

"Very efficient." Chakotay told her approvingly, glancing momentarily at the central console where they'd first viewed the Demon planet together, "The Captain will agree, the last thing we need is to have the threat of running out of gas hanging over our heads again." He sighed ruefully, "I know I won't be underestimating how much we need Astrometrics again any time soon." He shifted uneasily as something about that remark made Seven stare at him, then look away quickly.

"I am…gratified to hear that." If Chakotay didn't believe he knew her better, she sounded almost shy. Then she released a sigh that if he hadn't been standing quite close to her he wouldn't have heard. "It was perhaps unwise of me to suggest that we pursue the deuterium on that planetoid. We used a great deal of our remaining power in that endeavour, if we had not found…"

"But we did." Chakotay cut in to gently remind her, "And it was a unique experience."

"Yes." Seven agreed with a brisk nod, "Unique." Her lips pursed in thought before she added, "Hopefully."

Chakotay was startled by his own laugh, but not as much as Seven obviously was, despite the glint in her eye he'd caught as she spoke. Maybe she just hadn't expected him to respond. His old suspicion that she'd develop a good sense of humour if she directed her sense of the literal into deadpan remarks was reinforced. "Well, nothing is guaranteed, this is Voyager." He replied lightly.

"Indeed." Seven murmured tightly.

Chakotay peered at her in concern. "You know that the Captain technically gave us some time off to recover from that away mission, you should take some of that time."

Seven sighed heavily, now it was her turn to shift uncomfortably. "I have not yet adapted sufficiently to the concept of 'time off' Commander." She admitted frankly after a few seconds pause.

"No…that's understandable." Chakotay reassured her awkwardly, running a hand through his hair as he quashed the wayward thought that maybe he should do something with her, just a courtesy and an ice-breaker. He was painfully aware that if she had been any other crewmember, he would've acted on the idea at once. "I went straight back to work too I guess." He realised, unintentionally speaking aloud.

Seven thankfully deferred from making a comment on his lack of a social life, B'Elanna and even Kathryn would've jumped on him for that. "How is the recovery of Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim progressing?"

"I just left Tom catching up with B'Elanna in Sickbay." He revealed, his smile morphing into a smirk as Seven arched her metallic brow, picking up on the subtext. "Harry has regained consciousness too, sitting up listening to the Doctor regale with how he suffered as Neelix's host. Seven mirrored his smirk at that, but her face soon became serious again.

"And…how are they absorbing the idea of their duplicates?" she asked hesitantly.

Chakotay hadn't expected emotional insight from Seven, and hesitated before answering. "As well as can be expected. Though honestly, they were unconscious through it all, if anything the two duplicates were more disturbed by the realisation they weren't the real Paris and Kim." He studied her thoughtfully, "And you? You donated your DNA to be duplicated didn't you?"

"Yes." Seven confirmed, "The Captain requested it, and appeasing the 'silver blood' was the most prudent course of action." She paused thoughtfully, "The idea of my duplicate living on that planetoid is odd, difficult to contemplate…and yet it should not be. In the Collective, connected to the Hive Mind, I was a duplicate of every drone before me, and the prototype for every drone after me."

Chakotay frowned, what she said made sense, but he couldn't really stomach it and, he now suspected, neither could she. "You're an individual now." He repeated that usual tract, but it seemed even more inane and shallow than usual.

"Yes." Seven confirmed slowly, a frown forming on her striking features as she scrutinised him. "I was surprised that _you _submitted to being duplicated Commander."

Chakotay blinked at her blankly. "Why?"

"My knowledge of your spiritual beliefs, admittedly limited, tells me that an individual's spirit is held sacrosanct." She explained succinctly, "I am surprised you were comfortable to have that spirit so duplicated."

Chakotay exhaled sharply, more stunned than angry. How the _hell _could she presume to know anything about his beliefs? His heritage was so mixed and convoluted that there was no way that researching one specific group could tell her anything. Unless their link had… He cut that thought off, even as he thought of the surreal vision quest/dream he'd experienced in the immediate aftermath of their link. _No_. "First of all…" He forced out, "…that silver blood duplicate could_ never_ duplicate my spirit, my soul…" He spat out heatedly, "Any more than a hologram of me could share my soul…" He shook his head hard as he stared at her, "Do _you _think your duplicate has your soul?"

Seven considered before answering, seemingly ignorant of his indignant stance. "It will have retained my memories, like the Collective, and apparently my…personality…" She hesitated before attributing herself with a personality, "But like the Collective, my experiences have already diverged from those of my duplicate." She regarded him carefully, "My individual soul is thus intact Commander."

"Well, we can agree on the principles then." Chakotay told her, finding that, as her words sunk in, his temper and sense of offence dwindled to almost nothing. She hadn't asked to deliberately rile him, he realised, she was just honestly, guilelessly, tactlessly curious. And perhaps seeking reassurance. "We're here and the silver blood aliens…" He pointedly avoided the term 'duplicate' now, "…are back there." He smiled at her wearily, "They're irrelevant now, as you would say."

"Agreed." Chakotay saw that Seven visibly relaxed as she said that. Yes, seeking reassurance. He began to feel guilty.

"Before we close the book on it altogether…" He began kindly, "I should thank you wholeheartedly for stopping me from…" He smiled ruefully, "…abseiling down to the bottom of that cave without the proper equipment."

Abseiling? Seven's brow furrowed, but she quickly realised he was referring to his near fall to his death. "It was Duplicate Paris who had the strength to pull you up Commander."

"But you kept me hanging there until he arrived." Chakotay reminded her, "Considering how unexpected that was, you should take the thanks for both of you."

Seven bowed her head, "No thanks are required Commander. I am merely relieved you were undamaged."

Chakotay thought of the strained shoulder ligament he had from her rescue efforts, but of course didn't mention it. "Take them away." He advised her seriously, turning towards the door, "I'll be back for tomorrow's report."

"Of course." Seven replied. He was almost out the door before she added, "If you do decide to forego your duty shift for some time off Commander, I request that you do not take up abseiling, even on the holodeck."

Chakotay laughed warmly, "It's a promise!"

* * *

><p><strong>An: Please review. If you're interested in a C/7 spin on the second part of the silver blood arc, 'Course Oblivion', read The Cheshire Cheese's brilliant one-shot 'Time Enough'. The same author just posted another amazing C/7 one-shot 'Temporal Loop' which everyone should read if they want to see some C/7 scenes dealing with the consequences of 'Human Error'. (And really, what C/7 fan **_**doesn't **_**want to see that? Lol.)**


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